


Whatever Happens

by josafiend



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Drunkenness, Ferrari - Freeform, Kimando, M/M, Shower Sex, Snow, Wroom 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josafiend/pseuds/josafiend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wroom 2014 is back on, but Fernando is struggling to bond with his famously frosty new team-mate on the slopes. Perhaps with little help from Ducati's new boy he can find a way to melt the Iceman?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever Happens

**Author's Note:**

> Written from a prompt by Arkadias for the Understeers Ficlet Challenge (2).

"Do you suppose there'll be enough?"  
  
Fernando smiles, pulls off his gloves and extends a hand to the man joining him.  
  
"Fernando."  
  
"I know," Cal says with a smile. "It's a pleasure. Cal"  
  
Fernando grins widely. "I know."  
  
"Hardly worth the introductions, is it?" says Cal, wandering along the line of tables and whistling through his teeth at the sight of endless bottles. There are cans and bottles of beer, white spirits, whiskey and shots, and huge kegs containing more beer, lager and cider. Several plastic jugs stand stacked behind the bottles, waiting to be filled with lurid concoctions masquerading as cocktails. "Is this all for us?"  
  
"Unbelievably, yes." Fernando replies. "Although I would recommend that you stay well away from the absinthe."  
  
Cal smirks and Fernando looks away, "Are we speaking from experience on that one, Tinkerbell?"  
  
"The fairy wings were not my idea."  
  
"No, of course not."  
  
The Spaniard waves a hand, dismissing the conversation, and strolls across to the window. As he gazes at the snowy landscape a grey Jeep pulls up beside the foyer and a well wrapped figure climbs out, his companion dropping into his footprints and then following with a suitcase as they head for the entrance.  
  
"I was hoping to catch up with that team-mate of yours at some point," says Cal, still picking his way through the bottles. "He looked pretty tidy on two wheels in the summer at that moto-cross event. When's he due in?'  
  
Fernando peers over the window sill at the retreating figure, recognising the word ‘Makia' on his thick coat, and pushes out his lower lip thoughtfully.  
  
"He's already here."

  
***

  
At dinner, Fernando spots Cal hovering awkwardly at the bar and gestures for him to join him, sliding out the seat beside him.  
  
"Thanks," says Cal with relief. ‘It's like being the new kid at school all over again!"  
  
Fernando chuckles. "Think of it as a rite of passage. Every Ferrari driver has been the new boy at some point."  
  
Cal coughs and points at the word ‘Ducati' which is emblazoned across his fleece.  
  
Fernando shrugs, "Yeah, that too."  
  
They both look up as Stefano appears opposite them, noticing that the seat to his left is still vacant and the waiting staff are beginning to converge on them with starters.  
  
"Kimi." Stefano mutters in response to Fernando's enquiring expression, but doesn't utter another word on the subject.  
  
Fernando wonders if he can use this as an opportunity to gain a couple of points advantage over his new team-mate, but doesn't think annoying Stefano any further would be a great idea, and besides, his food has arrived and he's starving.  
  
"Are you looking forward to the new challenge, Cal?"  
  
Fernando chews his food thoughtfully as Stefano makes conversation, wondering why Kimi hasn't shown up for the meal, even though he knows for certain he's in the hotel somewhere.  
  
"I really am," Cal replies enthusiastically, grinning at the prospect of the new season. "I don't know if I'll be ready to gatecrash Marc and Jorge's party straight away, but I'll give it a bloody good go."  
  
Stefano nods and points his fork at the Englishman, "This is a fabulous attitude, Cal. I wish I could get the same motivation for my own team."  
  
Fernando frowns and stops chewing.  
  
"Don't look so offended, Fernando. You know I'm not talking about you."  
  
A waitress scoops up their empty plates  
  
"Oh, if you speak of the devil…"  
  
Fernando turns to follow Stefano's icy glare, right towards the Iceman himself; Kimi Raikkonen, his new team-mate.  
  
The Finn enters the large restaurant with his physio in tow, who at least has the good grace to look embarrassed by their lateness. Kimi chooses a table separate from the assembled Wroom group and waves to a nearby waitress.  
  
Cal looks vaguely amused, "Was it something we said?" he quips, but Stefano looks far from impressed.  
  
"He disrespects us," he hisses, lowering his eyes to the bowl of thick steaming lamb casserole that is set in front of him. "I told Luca it was a mistake to bring Todt's golden boy back to Maranello!"  
  
Fernando wishes he could tell Stefano to stop being so free with his opinion, the last thing they need pre-season is every Italian newspaper splashing Ferrari's dirty laundry all over their back pages, but thankfully he starts eating and silence falls.  
  
When Stefano heads for the bathroom Cal nudges Fernando in the ribs.  
  
"What's the deal with Kimi? Is he always this…" Cal frowns as he wracks his brains for a suitable description, "…distant?"  
  
Fernando shrugs, because he's never spent more than ten minutes in Kimi's company, and even during that time he rarely communicated using more than one word at a time.  
  
"Perhaps he thinks he's better than us," he says at last, suddenly regretting the suggestion as soon as it leaves his lips.  
  
Cal considers what has just been said and glances across at the tiny table in the corner. "Maybe he just thinks he's better than you?"  
  
Fernando inhales his wine with a sudden gasp and Cal breaks into loud, spontaneous, laughter as the Spaniard begins to choke. "Wow! That was brilliant!" he cries, slapping Fernando on the back. "What I meant to say was, maybe he's trying to play mind games with you. That's what you guys in Formula One do, right?"  
  
Fernando's eyes narrow and glare across to the other side of the room.  
  
Kimi's eyes lift from his soup and lock with Fernando's.  
  
Both men snap their gaze elsewhere.  
  
Fernando pushes his chair away from the table, and yawns hugely as he climbs to his feet. "We'll be hitting the slopes tomorrow, so I should get an early night."  
  
Cal frowns and looks at the watch on his wrist. "It's only nine o'clock, you know?"  
  
Fernando seems momentarily flustered. "Yes, yes!" he says hurriedly, looking over to find Kimi now sitting back in his chair, watching him with a thoroughly amused expression. "Well, goodnight Cal!"

  
****

  
The sun is high and bright the next morning, and Fernando takes a deep cleansing breath of crisp mountain air before he makes his way across to the assembled group waiting to board the cable car.  
  
He spots Cal leaning against his ski poles and stops beside him.  
  
"Good sleep?"  
  
Fernando sighs and smiles. He knows that his theatrics the previous evening didn't fool his English companion. "I was still watching television at half one this morning."  
  
Cal chuckles, "There's no shame in admitting he's got under your skin, mate."  
  
"He hasn't," Fernando says firmly, and hitches his snowboard up onto his shoulder as the cable car arrives and the group moves forwards to board.

  
****

  
"Do you ski much, Cal?"  
  
Cal looks up from his now seemingly permanent position; sat flat on his backside, and gives Fernando the finger. "I'm from Coventry, mate. How much skiing do you think I've done there?"  
  
Fernando reaches down and hauls Cal to his feet, steadying him as he hops on one leg to reattach his lost ski. He's just about to clip his own heels back into his board bindings when a red flash and a cold gust of air makes him step back and Cal's on his arse again.  
  
"What was that?" Fernando gasps, watching a cloud of snow powder as it continues its journey down the hillside.  
  
"That," Cal says slightly indignantly, "was your mate Kimi!"  
  
Fernando looks back down the mountain at the Ferrari clad figure swooping left and right in wide, confident arcs, to the chalets at the bottom. He tries not to look impressed by the Finn's capabilities on a snowboard, but the expression is plainly on his face, judging by Cal's reaction.  
  
"Do you want some alone time, Fernando?" he chuckles, climbing back to his feet.  
  
With a tut, Fernando crunches his heels down and, using Cal for propulsion, heads off down the mountain.  
  
  
As he glides down to the foot of the slope, Fernando can see Kimi standing at the outdoor bar chatting with some of the Ferrari team members. It's just as though he's never been away, and he has the mechanics eating from the palm of his hand already.  
  
Fernando crouches over his board, picking up speed when he should really be preparing to dig in and come to a stop, and heads straight for the dark wood of the bar. At the very last minute he pushes his heels into the ground, grinning gleefully at the prospect of the snow tsunami he's about to send in his new team-mate's direction, but doesn't see the flash of sunlight against the well trodden snow ahead of him. The board edge grinds and judders on the ice, finally hitting a patch of rock salt which flips the board onto its leading edge and sends Fernando face first into a snow drift five feet to Kimi's right.  
  
Fernando can hear the laughter beyond the drift and can almost feel the snow around him melting and turning to steam from the heat of his flushed red cheeks. He's embarrassed and he wants to stay just where he is, at least until Kimi's gone away, but two sets of hands clamp onto his shoulders and drag him unwillingly to his feet.  
  
"You okay, Fernando?" asks Andrea, who peers around Kimi with wide eyes.  
  
Kimi hasn't moved and Fernando can feel his face burning as he nods his head.  
  
What, am I so far below you, you can't even look at me?!  
  
"Are you sure? Because that looked like a really hard –,"  
  
"I'm fine!" Fernando snaps, snatching his board up from the ground and stamping towards the ski lift.

  
***

  
Cal's sitting outside the café when Fernando reaches the summit again, sipping a hot chocolate and looking more than happy with the fact that his skis are propped against the wall and nowhere near his feet.  
  
"I watched you all the way," he says as Fernando drops into the seat beside him.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
  
Cal shuffles the chair across until he's sitting directly beside the Spaniard. "You know what you need to do?"  
  
Fernando gives him a withering look but doesn't say anything, so Cal sees this as an opportunity to continue.  
  
"You need to not give a shit."  
  
"How do I do that? He's winding me up!"  
  
Cal grins. "Imagine how irritating it would be to be trying so hard to get somebody's back up, only for them to carry on like it's not even happening."  
  
Fernando pouts thoughtfully. "That would be very annoying."  
  
"Exactly! Eventually you'd be the one snapping, not the guy you're messing with, right?"  
  
"I suppose so," say Fernando. "So I just ignore him?"  
  
"Yup!" Cal replies, grinning widely. "We'll go all out on the booze later, maybe get some of the other guys involved, and then we'll see how he likes being out there on his own!"  
  
"You're evil," Fernando says, chuckling at the thought of Kimi's frustrations reaching breaking point. "Let's do it!"

  
****

  
Fernando doesn't drink beer, or spirits. To be very honest, he doesn't really drink at all, since it might interfere with the delicate balance of his healthy lifestyle. So when Cal hands him his tenth pint of lager he takes a huge gulp and slops almost half of it down his shirt when he suddenly realises he's walking backwards.  
  
"This is a decent party!" Cal yells, throwing an arm around Fernando's shoulder as the music level lifts again and the people around them cheer while they dance. "I never knew it was this much fun!"  
  
Fernando's mind takes him back to the previous year, where he and Nicky Hayden are sitting at the bar with empty shot glasses littering the woodwork in front of them, discussing the choreography for their ‘talent show' set.  
  
"It is always this fun," Fernando grins and drains his glass. "I think I need a breath of fresh air."  
  
As he stumbles towards the door he can feel the ground pitching beneath his feet, holding onto the wall for dear life as the room around him gets warmer and warmer.  
  
The freezing air hits him and goes straight to his head, the legs which were only just holding him giving up for good and Fernando lands on his knees in the snow.  
  
Ugh!  
  
"You okay, man?"  
  
Fernando closes his eyes, but the mountain doesn't stop spinning. "I'm fine," he says, without turning.  
  
"You don't look fine."  
  
"Why don't you fu – Oh!"  
  
Kimi smirks right in Fernando's face as he wheels around to confront him. "You looked a little unsteady. I was just checking."  
  
Fernando scowls, "Yeah… well…" and trails away as he forgets what he was going to say.  
  
"I'd have a glass of water and get to bed, Fernando. We're karting tomorrow. I'm guessing you don't want me kicking your ass this early on?"  
  
Kimi turns to leave, still chuckling softly as a snowball hits him squarely in the back, and when he looks back Fernando is leaning against a nearby car, a second ball of compacted powder in his right hand.  
  
"What are you doing?" Kimi asks.  
  
Fernando tries to meet the Finn's gaze, but his eyes keep slipping in and out of focus. "You…" he growls and launches the next missile, which zips past Kimi's head.  
  
Kimi sighs and strides back, scooping a large handful of snow from a nearby post-box, and throws the loosely packed load into Fernando's face. "Stop it."  
  
"You stop it," replies Fernando sourly.  
  
"I didn't start anything!" Kimi says in a tired voice.  
  
Fernando rubs his face with his hand and his teeth start chattering.  
  
Cold.  
  
"Where's your coat?" Kimi asks.  
  
Fernando spins on the spot, to look around himself, losing his balance and staggering into the fence.  
  
"Good grief," Kimi sighs, and reaches under the Spaniard's arm pit to drag him to his feet. "Come on, champ. Time you hit the mattress."  
  
"I don't wanna to go to bed yet!"  
  
Kimi sighs again, "What do you want then?"  
  
"Drunk."  
  
"Yes, you are already."  
  
"No! A drink! You, buy me a drink."  
  
Kimi's eyebrows lift, "I'm not sure how I feel about you giving me orders, Fernando, and I'm not paying for alcohol when I have perfectly decent vodka in my room."  
  
Fernando gives him a lopsided grin and half collapses on his shoulder. "That's fine."  
  
"Perfect." Kimi says through his teeth and drags Fernando through the hotel entrance, smiling apologetically at the receptionist, who looks more than a little surprised to see them.

  
****

  
"You have a sauna?"  
  
Kimi looks up from the glasses he's filling as Fernando pulls open the door to his small suite's steam room.  
  
"It's not quite a sauna, but it's a fair attempt."  
  
"I want a sauna." Fernando says and pulls his sweater over his head.  
  
Kimi has reached him by the time his fingers grip the hem of his shirt and hold them still before he can strip himself off. "No, you don't want a sauna. You want one vodka and then you're going to bed."  
  
Fernando pouts dramatically. "Pleeeeeeaaase?"  
  
"No," Kimi says firmly, shoving the glass into Fernando's chest and leaving no room for discussion. "Sit down."  
  
Still looking aggrieved the Spaniard drops into one of two comfy chairs beside a large flat screen television and sips his drink eagerly.  
  
"You shouldn't rush that," Kimi warns, but the vodka is gone within seconds.  
  
Fernando grins at him. "Another?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Can I have that sauna now?"  
  
"No."  
  
"C'mon, Kimi!" Fernando whines, and Kimi's eyes roll in frustration.  
  
"You can have one or the other, but not both,' he finally snaps, throwing back his own drink in the hope that it might make the ordeal a little easier.  
  
"Fine," Fernando says happily, getting to his feet and peeling his shirt off, "sauna it is then!"  
  
Kimi can only bury his face in his hands as his new team-mate strips off and scatters his clothes around his so recently neat and tidy hotel room.  
  
"Shower first!" Kimi yells as Fernando's hand closes on the steam room door, and he steers the Spaniard into the shower cubicle and slams on the water. Fernando shrieks as the water hits his skin without having the time to warm up a little, but the vodka warms his veins and soon he's standing watching the drips from his hair.  
  
"Okay, you're done." Kimi says, pulling Fernando out by the shoulders and throwing a towel at his face. "Off you go."  
  
Fernando looks at the door Kimi's holding open, and then back at his stern face. "You're having a sauna too?"  
  
"No I'm not, I'm drinking my vodka and then watching the Liiga highlights."  
  
"But I don't know how it works!"  
  
Kimi breathes slowly through his nose, resisting the urge to drown Fernando in the nearby toilet. "Just splash some water on the coals if you start to see the walls," he suggests.  
  
Fernando's brown eyes appeal to Kimi's better nature, like an abandoned puppy, and with an enormous sigh the Finn pushes Fernando past the doorway. "Give me five minutes."

  
****

  
Fernando stares at the steam as it rises past the light shining through the doorway. The glass is misted to opacity, but he can make out Kimi's form as it moves around the bathroom beyond, the sharp movements he keeps making because he's annoyed. Sadly for Fernando, he's too drunk to realise how much he's pissed Kimi off.  
  
The door squeaks as Kimi enters and he plonks himself down on the short bench, which would only really seat one more person of similar build, beside Fernando. He grabs the handle of the ladle and throws water at the coals, launching it back into the bucket and sitting back as the steam creeps around them.  
  
"Are you going to hit me with a branch?" Fernando asks.  
  
"Don't fucking tempt me," Kimi replies, closing his eyes.  
  
Fernando watches Kimi as he relaxes next to him, remembering his first Grand Prix and the nerves he felt as he walked into driver's briefing for the first time. There had been another new boy on the grid that weekend in Australia, a similar scrawny, wet-behind-the-ears kid whose story played out a lot like Fernando's own.  
  
"Stop staring at me," Kimi says irritably.  
  
Fernando snaps his eyes closed, thinking back again to the first time they shared a podium, the setting for Kimi's first win in Malaysia. Fernando remembers the burning jealousy he had felt, standing on the third step while Kimi lifted the winner's trophy high. He had hated him for winning, but had never really been able to truly understand why. Maybe it was because their careers had started at the same time, and that they were so close in age, but there was nobody on the grid who Fernando benchmarked himself against as much as Kimi.  
  
"Feel dizzy," Fernando mumbles.  
  
Kimi can't stop Fernando jumping to his feet and rushing for the door, and so when he collapses from the sudden head rush and slams into the wall Kimi simply waits until he rolls into his shins and picks him back up again.  
  
"I am going to have to put up with this shit for two whole years?" Kimi mutters, as Fernando's eyelids flutter, and he hauls him back upright and out of the door.

  
***

  
When Fernando comes too he's half slumped against the tiles of the shower cubicle and can feel hands on his back and shoulders as warm water rains down on him.  
  
"Nice," he mumbles, before realising who the hands belong to. "What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm cleaning the sweat off you so you don't stink my room out," Kimi replies curtly, slapping a soap covered hand against the side of Fernando's head. "Don't be so ungrateful."  
  
"I don't understand," Fernando says, resting his head against the tiles. The movement of Kimi's hands against his skin make him feel calm and anxious all at once. He can't explain it, but he doesn't want him to stop.  
  
"I shouldn't be doing any of this for you," Kimi snaps, the hands pushing into Fernando's shoulder blades and making him wince slightly. "The only thing you've ever done for me is finish my career."  
  
Fernando frowns, trying to turn but the hands not letting him move an inch. "I didn't finish your career."  
  
"I didn't know that at the time, did I?"  
  
Fernando's hands ball into fists. It was never his decision to cast Kimi out of Ferrari. He was offered a contract and a chance, what was he supposed to do?  
  
"You're not being fair, Kimi"  
  
Kimi snorts, "Life isn't fair, Fernando."  
  
The hands move down Fernando's back, soap slippery fingers pushing against the tense muscles. Kimi digs his thumbs into the base of his spine and drags them out towards his hips, Fernando groans contentedly in response.  
  
"Would you have said no in my position?" Fernando asks, fixing his teeth around his bottom lip as Kimi's circling hands move lower still, massaging his buttocks slowly and definitely.  
  
"Probably not," the Finn concedes. "I suppose this isn't really personal, it's just what you represent."  
  
Fernando feels a chill pass through his body, his skin goosebumping despite the warmth of the water falling against him, and without stopping to consider the idea, arches slightly, pushing back against Kimi's massaging hands.  
  
"Let's just make sure we start this season on the right foot," Kimi says.  
  
Fernando sucks in the air as Kimi's hands grasp his arse, hard. The force of it pushes his hips forward and he can feel Kimi's short fingernails cutting into his skin. Still Fernando can't help but fight it, using his elbows against the wet wall to gain enough purchase to keep his body steady.  
  
He shouldn't be letting Kimi do this, because this is the worst way of asserting any kind of authority on a person, but his hands move like they know every inch of his skin and Fernando presumes that it's the last of the alcohol that's giving his senses a golden glow, but what Kimi's doing is definitely helping. He can feel the hard peak of towel pressing against the cleft of his arse, threatening, tempting. His elbows sting from pressure of holding himself back, and his cock is achingly hard.  
  
"Kimi?"  
  
Fernando can feel Kimi's breath on the back of his neck; hitting the moisture on his skin and cooling the as it ripples over, making him shiver again.  
  
"It's always been you and me, hasn't it, Fernando?" Kimi says, his fingers tracing symmetrical lines around the circumference of the Spaniard's hips, dancing over the peak of bone before spreading into a wide grab that pulls Fernando against Kimi's groin and the air out of Fernando's lungs.  
  
"Kimi?"  
  
The fingers dig into Fernando's hips, it makes him wince but he bites his cheek because if he cries out, Kimi might stop and that's the last thing he wants. He's got his own hands against the wall now, palms flat against the tiles, his shoulders trembling slightly. Kimi's hands trail up his chest, lathering soapy circles around Fernando's nipples before rubbing across them, alternating the soft touches with pinches, infuriating Fernando who can't predict which action is coming next.  
  
"It's sort of inevitable that we should end up in the same place, together." Kimi says softly, and sinks his teeth into the tanned skin of Fernando's shoulder.  
  
Fernando whines, dropping his head back against Kimi's neck as he nuzzles kisses along his jaw. He can hear his breath catching, amplified by the proximity of Kimi's mouth to Fernando's ear, as he trails his tongue lazily around the ear lobe. Fernando groans again and reaches back to grab mindlessly at Kimi's towel clad backside, tugging him towards his own body.  
  
When Kimi's hand falls to his groin, palming his cock firmly, Fernando's mouth drops open.  
  
"Oh fuck," Fernando croaks, grinding himself back against Kimi and sighing as the towel falls to the floor, the sensation of hard cock pressed into the crack between his cheeks making his head spin helplessly.  
  
Kimi tightens his grip and Fernando feels his body betray him with a pulse against the fingers.  
  
"We're not so different, you and me," Kimi purrs, pulling away to stroke two fingers against Fernando, teasing and tormenting the puckered hole as it contracts at the lightest of touches. "We're basically after the same thing," Fernando holds his breath as Kimi's finger pushes into him, feeling the slight sting discomfort turn into a jolt of pleasure that rips through him like a lightning bolt, "so why don't we just work together?"  
  
Fernando drops his head forwards, closing his eyes against the flow of water down his temples, feeling Kimi's fingers inside him, working him, stretching him, preparing him. His other hand moves between his nipples, which are painfully over sensitive from the pinches and twists, and his cock. Kimi's fingertips swirl across the leaking head, making Fernando's knees weak, and moves to a firm stroke which is timed so cruelly with the subtle tap on his prostate it makes the bathroom shift on it's axis until Fernando bites hard into his lower lip to suppress the cries.  
  
Fernando feels Kimi remove his fingers, feeling bereft but still apprehensive as he senses the pressure of Kimi's own cock against his entrance, he's not sure that he's prepared him fully enough, and this is going to hurt like hell.  
  
"Kimi?"  
  
Fernando's eyes snap open, the sensation of being stretched too much combining with the tingle of absurd satisfaction. He tries to shift his weight, tilt forward a little more, anything to relieve the pain, but Kimi's arm is locked around his chest with his teeth almost biting into his cheek, and it feels awful but so glorious he can't pull himself away.  
  
Kimi groans, a deep and animalistic sound that rumbles down his throat, Fernando can feel the sound through his back, along with the slight rock of his hips as he starts to move himself in and out. The sensation starts to attack Fernando's common sense and he twists his head, choking a strangled cry into the damp skin of Kimi's wide neck, pushing his lips into the tendons tensed like steel beneath the surface.  
  
Before he knows it he's coming, Fernando pushes back against Kimi wantonly, throwing any conscious thought straight out of the equation. Kimi's stroking his cock with an identical rhythm to the one pushing into his arse and, one by one, his senses implode, throwing him over the edge with a cry and a curse, Kimi coming a moment later, his fingers almost breaking Fernando's collar bones his grip is so tight.  
  
Fernando can feel Kimi's weight against his back, still almost moulded around him, as the water begins to run cold.  
  
As the heat drops away, Fernando can feel his anger rising.  
  
"Perhaps you could take some comfort from the fact that they've brought you back to humiliate me?" Fernando says bitterly, turning suddenly within the small space and pushing Kimi back against the screen.  
  
Kimi doesn't say anything, just stands there looking at Fernando with his cock softening in front of him.  
  
"So you thought your career was over back then? Now you know it isn't, good for you!" Fernando spits. "This is my chance, my championship, and here you are trying to take it from me!"  
  
"If it's your championship, why haven't you won it already?" Kimi asks. "You can't just sit around and wait for it to happen."  
  
Fernando's expression drops with incredulity. "Is that what you think? I've been working my backside off for three seasons, Kimi! I lost last season by three fucking points!"  
  
"I've been there, Fernando. I know it hurts. You just have to fight harder."  
  
"I can't fight any harder," Fernando whispers, hanging his head dejectedly. "It's too hard. I can't keep coming back from all this disappointment."  
  
Kimi arm twitches, as though he was about to reach out to Fernando and then thought better of it.  
  
"I want to hate you," Fernando says.  
  
"So hate me."  
  
Fernando looks up at Kimi, through the strands of his dripping wet hair, and sighs. "I can't. You're right; it's always been you and me. We'll just have to see this one out together, whatever happens."  
  
Kimi laughs once, reaching around the shower screen for a fluffy white bath robe which he tosses at Fernando, and pulls a large towel down from a nearby shelf for himself.  
  
"Whatever happens?" the Finn repeats with a curious smile.  
  
Fernando shrugs, "They all think we're going to fucking self destruct at Ferrari anyway, we might as well give them a decent show."

  
****

  
Kimi is out on the balcony when Fernando finishes dressing, and slides back the door to join him, accepting the glass offered to him.  
  
"Brandy?" Fernando asks, sniffing the contents.  
  
Kimi nods and sips his own drink. "So you don't get a chill from that shower."  
  
"Such a gentleman," Fernando muses, looking out across the mountain which is now swathed in moonlight.  
  
Kimi chuckles, "You won't be saying that tomorrow when I've handed you your own backside on the kart track."  
  
Fernando rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, Iceman. We'll see about that."


End file.
